


"three's a crowd"

by orphan_account



Series: mature! 2park [1]
Category: Wanna One (Band)
Genre: M/M, Rated M for language, Theme - Cheating
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-11-16
Packaged: 2019-05-28 07:35:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15043895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: There are two rules in playing a game only meant for two...Never ever expect anything in return,And never fall in love with the game…After all, you're simply just a mere substitute.Not when three's always a crowd.(………….because in life,Nobody's perfect)





	1. three times a charm

**Author's Note:**

> rated M for language and theme!!  
> i'm honestly quite wary of posting this but i have worked hard for this sobs  
> ANYWAY!
> 
> cheating is bad, should not be romanticized and will never be tolerated so i'm really sorry

_Park Jihoon was perfect._

  
  


Or everyone believed so.

  
  


Park Jihoon---

\--- if there's anything or anyone in this world or some part of Korea (most particularly), no one could not know and miss the epitome of a perfect man must be. A man born from one of the most powerful families in Korea, this young lad Park could not be set aside. His parents owned chains of hotels and restaurants not just in Korea but also some part of the world.

  
  


  
  


And oh, everybody loved him… admired him… called him a perfect chap,  _The Brown Chameleon_ _. He_ was witty, sarcastic, smart, charming, adventurous, and fucking delicious. Graduated from one of the most prestigious universities, he now owned different branches of clothing stores. And yes, he's also going to take over their business.  _Oh the super boy!_ That brown shiny hair, his voluptuous body and… _those brown eyes_  were what mostly made him famous. The sole reason why he's famously known as _The Brown Chameleon,_ for he can deceive you with those eyes. Girls and boys alike wanted him --- to show off. Because he's the perfect person to show off --- to brag.

  
  


Needless to say, Park Jihoon and his life was one of those to-die-for's. He had to be perfect, everyone's eyes glued on his. He had to be perfect, needed to be perfect, wanted to be perfect, fucking had to be the perfect man for his family… for everyone who admired him. He just had to be perfect and nothing and no one could take him down. Not when he worked hard to be where he was.

  
  


_But then…_ _he came._

_And everything just fell apart._

  
  


***********************

_Park Jihoon does not want to fall in love again._

  
  


Because the first time he did, his world crumbled.

  
  


That's why if he could, then he'd definitely stay out of love. _Commitments_ , he scoffed bitterly, are just pain in the butt. People could either be so clingy or uncaring and he didn't want either of them.

  
  


After all, he's too scared to try one.

  
  


Yes, for once, Jihoon's _not_ _that_ _perfec_ t. And one of his flaws was love. He's afraid that he'd be left once again. Like six years back. He didn't want that feeling anymore.

  
  


\---  _that feeling to watch the one you love walk away from you…_

  
  


_\--- that feeling to see as he took every memory with him…._

  
  


What pained him more was he knew and he understood why he had to walk away and out of his life. He knew, he understood, he could have chased him and fly to Italy but he refused to do so.

  
  


It's his dream and not his.

  
  


It's his choice and his choice was to stay.

  
  


So from then on, he had his heart guarded. He tried to keep himself busy with the business and his passion. It was easy, he was almost --- if not, close to --- being successful.

  
  


Anyway, who would feel alone if you're living the life of THE _Park Jihoon_? He's everything a girl wanted for… everything a boy would also love to have and brag for.

  
  


After all, he's perfection right?

  
  


_But why…_ _why his traitorous heart says the otherwise?_

  
  


  
  


  
  


_Park Jihoon does not believe in love at first sight._

  
  


(For him, love at first sight was too shallow to trust, too hard to grasp and believe.)

  
  


So when Park Woojin came ---

as soon as his name rolled off his tongue, something clanked. Perhaps the name had too much impact? The name was nice? Peculiar? Jihoon did not know exactly why. Because just by saying (or even thinking) his name, the feeling was already weird and somewhere, something just clanked in his heart.

  
  


_Park Woojin_  ---

he was late --- oh so fucking late --- for Goodness' sake!

  
  


If there was something Park Jihoon despised the most, it was tardiness. He's busy with so many things. He would've preferred to stay inside the office, sketching dresses (his passion) or thinking of something for the upcoming party for the merging of the Park and Park companies. So damn, he didn't need to be sitting with the old Park and his Dad waiting for this – insert eye roll – Woojin.

  
  


_Fucking feeling important,he_ hissed through his gritted teeth.

  
  


And no matter what excuses the old Park had made ---  _perhaps he got stuck in the traffic, or passed by into something important_ _\----_ _oh I'm sorry, I'm sorry he was never like this, really, I_ _\---_

  
  


Whatever --- which ever the reason ---

\--- all he knew was one thing ---

Park-fucking-Woojin was late.

He hated tardiness. So he now hated Park Woojin.

  
  


_Whatever_ , he just rolled his eyes.

  
  


*******

 Park Wooji _n ---_

he was sweaty, wearing a dirty white shirt and black running pants, something out to be considered formal. Park Jihoon was not picky (he'd like to think so) but he also knew how to do business and seriously, by the looks of this Park Wooji _n_ he was not about to do business.

  
  


And when he sat beside him (smelling like spicy and mint), backpack on the floor, he terribly wanted to rip out of his hair or to flip the table and smack it on his face. (Whichever it was, he just needed to inflict pain on him.)

  
  


Park Wooji _n_ combed his black (and wet, mind you) hair with so much confidence and smirk. "Sorry, appa, I got stuck in the traffic after the dance practice. So… what's up?"

  
  


To say that Park Jihoon was shocked was the biggest understatement of the year.

  
  


Dance --- fucking dance --- Park Wooji _n_ was late! Just because of a dance practice, he had to wait for an hour and a half for him!

  
  


Jihoon crossed his legs and arms, leaning comfortably on the chair, eying the guy. "Oh, so you're the _late_ _Park Woojin_?" Emphasis and sarcasm on the word late.

  
  


Woojin turned his head towards him with a chuckle. Brown and small eyes --- so affectionate --- so many emotions hidden. "Literally, I hope so. Yes, I'm Park Wooji _n_ and you must be…." A flick on his forehead and an annoying **(read: charming)** smile with a fucking snaggletooth, he offered his hand in front of him. "… Park Jihoon?"

  
  


He ignored the hand after gulping and turned to the old Park. "It's my pleasure meeting you, Mr. Park but I think there's something wrong with the meeting."

  
  


"But ---" The old Park looked frightened. _He should be, nobody makes Park Jihoon wait._

  
  


"When I do business, I always mean business."

  
  


Woojin interjected, amused. "Oh, Mr. Park, can't we just give this a rest?"

  
  


"On the contrary, Mr. Park," He wheeled facing him. "I'm afraid, I won't give this a rest, thank you so much."

  
  


"Jihoonie ---" Now, it was his Dad.

  
  


“No, Dad, let us not take his side just because Mr. Park is here. You, of all people, know how I work and how I value my time and I wish that Mr. Park Woojin here is, as well. I would’ve done so many things in that hour and a half so and…." He eyed the guy and something --- something was very wrong with his brain because… he looked so gorgeous.  _No, I did not say that_ _._

  
  


He gulped, continuing. "I hope you value time and proper dress code. I hope your parents taught you that. Or perhaps they did, were you even listening or… were you late because of dance practice as well?"

  
  


With a loud “Excuse”, he rushed out and in the elevator.

  
  


Park Jihoon just then realized how pissed off he was.

  
  


But as the door closed, in came Park Wooji _n_.

  
  


Obviously, Park Jihoon was shocked but mostly appalled.

  
  


"You know," Jihoon swore under his breath, too late to notice how close he was. His lips almost touching his, scent tickling Jihoon's senses in the most annoying way possible. "I never let anyone question my capability let alone embarrassed me so I was really wondering… why I let you…" He blinked. ( _Lord, his eyelashes are so long_ ), fingers tracing the contour of his face. "…is it because you're Park Jihoon? Perhaps, and you, young Jihoon is very much interesting. I'm dumbstruck."

  
  


With the blink of his eyes, his lips met his. Sweet --- gentle --- perfect. Nothing else mattered.

  
  


"A pleasure meeting you, Mr. Park." And with the Ding, he left.

  
  


  
  


_Why did everything just feel so right?_

  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


_Park Jihoon does not believe either in love at second sight._

  
  


The second meeting, it was at the party of Park and Park companies.

(And for the record, he's not late.)

  
  


  
  


Ahn Hyeongseob ---

he was pretty, with big (and kind of snobby) eyes, alluring and blonde. Ethereal in blonde. He was one of the popular guys, the classy-slash-party type of guy just like him. (But bragging aside, he was much better than him in so many ways.)

  
  


The particular Ahn Hyeongseob was wearing a red, daring and sexy suit which flaunted his lithe figure and Jihoon was sure he wore so much of BB cream on his face. When the other guy saw him, Jihoon carefully sipping his wine, Ahn Hyeongseob jogged oh-so-gracefully towards him, after all, they were elementary schoolmates.

  
  


And of course, beside him was none other than Park Jihoon.

  
  


The couple walked like they owned the world. His arms on his waist made people sigh in awe and jealousy except for Park Jihoon. Because he was so much better than the couple so no, he's not envious. Not now. Not ever.

  
  


But Jihoon couldn't take off his eyes at the Park man as Ahn Hyeongseob formally introduced them to each other. And Park Jihoon kind of hated his voice, his mere existence and anything that had to do with Ahn Hyeongseob right at that moment.

  
  


Because right at that moment, the young lad was staring at the small and seductive eyes of Park Woojin, looking oh-so-perfectly-handsome in his black suit.

  
  


Park Woojin, he concluded, was not the typical type of a Korean man.

  
  


His golden tanned skin that not everyone in Korea has, his pointed nose, his sharp and defined jaw line, his beautiful skin complexion, his snaggletooth which made him look more of a boyish and sporty type and his lips ---

  
  


( _Oh my God,_ _Jihoon_ face palmed,  _his lips are holy and amazing and sweet and gentle._ _)_

  
  


Suddenly his lips on his yesterday came running through his mind. How sweet and perfect it was.

  
  


Woojin stretched out his hand in front of him, leaning forward not as discrete as yesterday inside elevator but close enough to feel his hot breath on his ear. "It's fancy seeing you again, Mr. Park. I hope I'm dressed enough for your liking tonight."

  
  


With all honesty, he really was. Black suit complimenting this gorgeous man in front of him. His smile --- it was not too wide, just curved at the right of his face. And his face --- it had a knowing look. And his insides melted at the very sight of him.

  
  


When he took his hand, there was fire present between them. The slapping of their skins just burned him inside out. (And fuck, as he blamed all those nonsense fictions teaching everyone and telling lies about electricity running through their skins --- because goddamn it, compared to fire, electricity was nothing.)

  
  


But no --- no --- no --- Park Woojin's not his type.

He wasn't considering that bastard as one.

Well first and foremost, Park Woojin's taken by Ahn Hyeongseob.

(And for the nth time, Park Woojin's not his type.)

  
  


  
  


  
  


But as the night turned old ---

as the old Par and his Dad had said their speeches, as the two men asked for a toast, he did not (would not) miss how Park Woojin's eyes traveled from them to him --- to him, Park Jihoon and not to Ahn Hyeongseob. Teasing and knowing. He knew how to burn him inside out.

  
  


Park Woojin had a smirk which was only meant for him to see. Yes, he knew that smirk belonged to him because his smirk was designed as a sweet and dangerous temptation and in their case, a very sinful one.

  
  


And so all he could was to raise his glass back at him.

  
  


The next moment he knew, he was already making his way towards him because obviously oblivious and innocent Ahn Hyeongseob was too absorbed  talking to some of his friends.

  
  


"You know," He whispered right through his ear. "I never really believed someone like you exist."

  
  


"Pray do tell me, Mr. Park, why you think so?"

  
  


Woojin chuckled --- enticing… fresh --- "You're beautiful, attractive… you're everything a man would want for… everything I would want for in my life."

  
  


"Flattery won't get you anywhere, Mr. Park."

  
  


"Oh am I flattering you, Mr. Park? I certainly am just stating the obvious fact. It's such a pity… you know?" There was a hint of disappointment, of sadness in his voice.

  
  


"Such a pity for what?" He turned his head slightly, his hair perfectly styled.

  
  


He leaned even more. "That I'm already taken and I cannot call you mine,  _my brown chameleon_ _._ "

  
  


_My_ _brown chameleon_ _,_ for a second thought, Jihoon loved the way he addressed him as one. He immediately blushed and thanked the Heavens that the party was held at night outside or he'd be embarrassed if he saw him blushing red as tomato.

  
  


A smile was etching on his face again. And his eyes as it flickered down to meet his, he thought --- he considered --- that perhaps there was something more than Park Woojin as a sweet and dangerous temptation, as more than a sinful man.

  
  


He was too hard to resist.

He was too sweet --- too charming to refuse.

His temptation went by the name of Park Woojin.

  
  


Ahn Hyeongseob ---

he cringed at the name because Park Jihoon never despised a name in all of his life --- entire existence. But meeting Park Woojin changed him --- bewitched him to hate someone's name in some unfathomable way he could never imagine.

  
  


_Park Jihoon, at the second sight, doubts if love – or perhaps lust – really does not exist in his vocabulary._

****************************

(The third sight, he really was not sure anymore.)

  
  


It was far  _far_ away from the city lights of Seoul. It was too different from the cold atmosphere he called home. In Paris night life, the club was more spacious, the noise was louder and there were much more party goers and the Brown Chameleon found himself swaying with the music.

  
  


The moment he heard the bad-ass music, he completely lost himself, he didn’t care that much as to whose body he was currently grinding with for the music was eating him alive. (FYI, Music was one of his many frustrations and he was glad that his brother was a great musician.) After all, the perfect Park Jihoon also needed a break.

  
  


A break away from all the paper and fucking business. A break away from someone who actually piqued his mind for a whole week now because it’s unhealthy, uncalled for --- it’s unhealthy to actually want someone  who’s not free anymore… taken… married… in love with someone else… and also goddamn hot.

  
  


And Park Woojin ---

( _fuckfuckfuck,_ _Jihoon_ thought) as he moved his hips, a random guy rubbing his legs and in his alcohol fuzzy state, his brown eyes met those of somehow familiar black eyes.

  
  


He felt himself stopping from moving.

  
  


Everything literally stopped. From him, to the music, to the people around him --- everything else just literally vanished.

 

Because why… why (would) even in this Paris club oh-so-fucking-far-away from Seoul would Park-fucking-Woojin haunt him? Why would he be there alone in his black V-neck shirt and white jeans sitting gloriously staring --- watching --- looking at him as if he was the  _only one on_ the entire dance floor?

  
  


Fuck, was he even really there? Or just another illusion his stupid mind created?

  
  


Jihoon found himself striding hesitantly towards him. His biggest worry was suddenly becoming an issue because why was his heart beating so abnormally fast for the second time for the guy who spelled nothing but venom?

  
  


As he reached the bar, after ordering his tequila, he stood behind him, hands in both sides of his waist, his breath tickling his nape. “And so we meet again, Mr. Park.”

  
  


He knew at that moment he had to run and flee.

  
  


Because Park Woojin’s simply a delicious danger.

  
  


“It’s very nice to see you here, of all places, Mr. Park.” He turned his head to meet his gaze. “Or shall I call this… stalking?”

  
  


“Let’s not flatter ourselves enough, Mr. Park.” Hot and dangerous. And just behind him.

  
  


“If that’s what you want.” He drank his tequila in one go, pushing him off. And then the heels of his shoes added to the noise of the club. “And oh!” He said as if he forgot something. “Nice shirt, Mr. Park but…” He wiped his shirt. “…. I prefer you naked.”

  
  


He really wasn’t sure what pushed him. Was it the alcohol? Or something much more? Without hesitation, Park Woojin dragged him away from the club, both smiles venomous and different.

  
  


It didn’t matter anymore.

  
  


Jihoon concluded that it was not the alcohol, it was more than that. The adventure? Hmmmm…

  
  


Park Jihoon could also play the game perfectly.

  
  


_**(Or so he thought.)** _

  
  


  
***********************

 

_Park Jihoon_ _was either stupid or smart. There's nothing in between._

  
  


He wasn't totally sure how this ended up in Jihoon's own car in some part of Paris with Woojin on top of him. He wasn't totally sure because he was beguiled by Park Woojin. Yes, perhaps playing with him, teasing him was kind of part of his own plan. But having sex --- well a mind blowing one --- with Woojin? Definitely not.

  
  


Jihoon pushed him off of him but before he even did, Woojin kissed down his fingers, eyes fixed on his. Jihoon didn't know whether this was real or Woojin was just being a gentleman. Who wouldn't, he was the Park Jihoon, after all.

  
  


“You know,” he stated. “I wouldn't have imagined to see you like this. In front of me. Under me.... before me.” His voice was gentle. There was a bit of being amused at the same time unbelieving. Just like how his heart was beating right now. _Unbelievable._

  
  


_“_ Why?”

  
  


Woojin brushed his hair with his fingers, playing with it. Like how both of them are playing this game. _Wild and dangerous_. “I've always imagined and wondered how I'd look in front of you. I always worry about that. Would I be cool? Manly? Charming? Or would I be boring or repulsive?”

  
  


“I think of none, Mr. Park.” Jihoon now pushed him off.

  
  


They settled themselves in silence. For five minutes, there was nothing but awkwardness hanging in the air.

  
  


“Let's go out.” He offered.

  
  


For the life of him, Park Jihoon wasn't completely certain as to why he agreed to this. But his heart was beating erratically . He was so sure this wasn't his heart in the first place. His heart would never beat as loud as fast as this for anyone.

  
  


Because no, Park Jihoon would never fall for a certain Park Woojin.

 

  
  


  
  


  
  


_Park Woojin was a breath of fresh air._

  
  


Sitting with him after he laid down his blanket near the Eiffel Tower, Jihoon would have thought this was romantic. If and only if this man beside him wasn't married. But he was. Disappointment, cue in.

  
  


How, how did he end up having sex with a married man like Park Woojin?

  
  


Or was Park Woojin a fucking exemption?

  
  


“The first time I met you, I knew I was awestruck.” The man admitted. And to say this didn't catch his attention was falsity.

  
  


“As far as I know, the first time I met you was when you were late.” He snapped, irritated just by the mere thought of it.

  
  


Park Woojin chuckled, astonishing him, cute and prominent snaggletooth showing. “Did you really think so?”

  
  


“I know so. I wouldn't exactly forget a face like yours.”

  
  


“Because I'm handsome?” His voice was teasing.

  
  


Jihoon eyed him with an annoyed face. He was sheepishly smiling at him, _that bastard_. It was like a kid genuinely asking if whatever he made was delicious even though you knew it wasn't. “Because you're a horrible excuse for a human being and I wouldn't want to deal with it.”

  
  


Cue his carefree laughter. Unlike those smirches he used to tease him with. Something about his laughter was somehow comforting. And also nice.

  
  


_Homey_ , in a way.

  
  


He put his arm around his shoulders, squeezing him tighter. “Did you really believe that we only met on that day?”

  
  


“Did you also really believe” he asked, trying to pry his arm off of his. “I would just allow you to put your arms on me like this?”

  
  


“Tsk.” Woojin scoffed. “You allowed me to do so much more, Park Jihoon.”

  
  


_Sex_ , he mocked himself. _A wake up call, Jihoon_.

  
  


It was like a bitter after taste of a coffee, knowing and realizing that this was just an affair that would need to end in Paris. It was exciting as it lasted but unsafe and unhealthy if continued.

  
  


“You know what happened in Paris tonight, only Paris would and should know.” Jihoon said, his face back to emotionless. Woojin dropped his hand off of his shoulders completely.

  
  


His shoulders suddenly felt naked and bare. It suddenly felt so cold.

  
  


Woojin chuckled, the kind of chuckle which was more of not believing whatever he just said. “Do you really think I would allow you to forget this most amazing night of my entire existence, Jihoon? Huh?”

  
  


“And your point?”

  
  


Woojin sighed as Jihoon lost himself in the blinding lights of Eiffel Tower. “Would I really let you go after chasing you for so long? Do you think I would just allow you to walk out now?”

  
  


Everything seemed to slow down. Jihoon didn't know what Woojin meant by that and he didn't want him to elaborate more. Not now, not ever. He'd be swayed. And he didn't want that.

  
  


With a sigh, he stood up dusting himself. This conversation was done for good.

  
  


He needed to walk away.

  
  


He needed to go.

  
  


Park Jihoon didn't like danger and uncertainties. He liked rules and stuck with it. He liked safety net... he liked it when he would win, and not this unsettled rope hanging around them... wanting to bind him with this man for danger.

  
  


_Or for worse._

  
  


The brown chameleon would never let that happen.

  
  


Before he could even go, a hand abruptly halted him. Brown met black eyes. “What happened in Paris will not stay in Paris. I wouldn't let you walk away from me again. Never.”

  
  


A promise, _never._

  
  


But promises are always meant to be broken. Apparently.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Park Jihoon didn't know when this actually started. It's been two weeks since that night in Paris and still, Park Woojin plagued his mind. He couldn't, for the love of everything, focus on his drawings. He couldn't put his full attention on anything at all.

  
  


Except his lips on his..

  
  


The black small eyes....

  
  


And the blue camellia lying innocently on his desk.

  
  


For the past two weeks, different blue camellias kept lying on his desk. Different messages of false hopes and admiration intended to be kept hidden from everyone but themselves. All of them were crashed and trashed as much as necessary.

  
  


No one should know. Nobody should ever know.

  
  


Or he would be in for the biggest trouble of his life.

  
  


“Jihoon.” A voice interrupted his thoughts. He dropped the flower in his hand and looked up, blinking at him. It was Sungwoon, his secretary. “You have a dinner meeting with your Dad tomorrow. And he wants you on your best behavior.”

  
  


“Why so sudden?” He asked. “With whom will it be?”

  
  


“With Mr. Park Woojin.”

  
  


The letter he got with the blue camellia suddenly seemed fitting.

  
  


_**I'll find a way.** _

  
  


 


	2. the game continue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Art is dangerous. It is one of the attractions; when it ceases to be dangerous, you don't want it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please watch! press the heart and like buttons! comment!  
> woojin's emotional /coughs/ starring in yang da il and wendy's mv!
> 
> [youtube](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hXrGpxeGfsk&feature=youtu.be) | [naver tc](https://tv.naver.com/v/3525581)

  
  


_Art is dangerous. It is one of the attractions; when it ceases to be dangerous, you don't want it._

  
  


(And, Jihoon thought, Park Woojin is undeniably an art.)

  
  


Needless to say, the dinner with old Parks came. The moment he came, he was surprised that Woojin was already sitting there in his black suit --- sleek and _mucho gwapito –_ on his left was the old Park [his Dad] and on his right was an empty spot.

  
  


When he came in --- black eyes dawned upon him. He politely greeted his Dad and the old Park and sat himself on the empty spot. He wanted to run away already the moment he sat down.

  
  


“I hope I'm dressed enough to impress you, Mr. Park.” Woojin cracked the joke. And how was that amusing, he wondered, when the two old men laughed at it. He shook his head and rolled his eyes at him.

  
  


Park Jihoon didn't want to deal with him now.

  
  


“I'd like to thank you, Jihoon, for a wonderful party we had. As you know, ever since that party, both companies enjoyed raving success.” The old Park had said with a grateful smile.

  
  


He nodded and kept mum. All he could ever think was how to run away from this misery.

  
  


All throughout the night, the two old men kept talking as he shut her mouth up. Park Woojin occasionally and subtly flirting with him in which he pointedly ignored.

  
  


_**Whatever happened in Paris, Paris should and would only know.**_

  
  


“I'm not used with this.” The old Park suddenly mentioned. “Jihoon not bantering with my Woojin. He usually would insult him, but look at him being timid now. Is anything wrong?”

  
  


Jihoon forced a smile. Little. “I'm just not feeling well.”

  
  


“Are you okay?'” His Dad asked. He nodded again.

  
  


“Woojin-ah, why don't you take Jihoon back home?” Woojin's Dad piped out-of-nowhere.

  
  


Jihoon snapped his head to Woojin whose face suddenly looked successful. His glare intensified as he fixed himself. “I'd be okay without it, Mr. Park. Thank you for the offer.”

  
  


“I insist.” Woojin almost shouted. Hurried. Almost like he never wanted to lose this chance.

  
  


The two older men quickly laughed. _What's so funny?_

  
  


“When both of you were young, Woojin was so scared of befriending Jihoon.” The old Park cited, chuckling maybe at his own memory.

  
  


This was a news. Jihoon only saw this man on the day ----

  
  


_Oh!_ A ding in his head. Oh fuck no---

  
  


“What if, Daddy, Jihoon wouldn't like me back? Daddy, he's so cute! He's so perfect, Daddy!' The old Park still tattled. And his own Dad laughed, too.

  
  


His ears went red. His face was painted with blush. A young Park Woojin in his memories? Hold up, he really couldn't remember. It was a blank canvas ---- all he knew was him, his brother, his best friend and the man he loved in his life.

  
  


The old Park continued. “You know if you didn't go and study in Paris, I'm sure your Dad and I would be setting you up with my son.”

  
  


Mr. Park, his Dad laughed. Oh how he adored his Dad's laughter. It reminded him of his older brother's laugh. “Mr. Park, I hate to break it to you but I will never make my son marry for money, you know that.”

  
  


The old Park laughed hard and Jihoon couldn't help but be happy over his Dad's words. Another reason why he loves his family, too. They were very supportive of everything he did and does in his life.

  
  


His eyes glanced at Woojin and a sudden memory struck him.

  
  


_A boy hiding behind the couch with bright yellow jacket and green pants and grabby mittens. A young Jihoon with his best friends and brother who were also looking back at the young boy._

  
  


_Then his best friend ushering him and their friends outside their house and him --- still looking back at this young boy in particular. This young boy looking at him, offering him a tiny cute little smile._

  
  


_Oh, fuck._

  
  


In the present, Jihoon suddenly stood up and grabbed everyone's attention. He bowed and stuttered. “I... I'm not feeling well.... I.... I... need to go.”

  
  


“Let me take you home.” Woojin grabbed him on his wrist.

  
  


_Home,_ he wondered, _what is even home now?_

  
  


_****_

  
  


  
  


_Sometimes home is not just four walls, but two eyes and a heart beat._

  
  


 

A heart beat.... his heart dropped.

  
  


He didn't want him inside his apartment yet he insisted stubbornly. As usual. He's physically attracted with Park Woojin, that's true enough, and that's all. But why was his heart beating fast as he wandered around inside his apartment?

  
  


Was he expecting him to compliment his apartment? Or to hate his apartment? Was it a messy apartment for him? Or just right? What the actual fuck, why was he even considering to think this way?

  
  


His apartment is at the topmost of one of the buildings that Park owns. It's overlooking where he can see the beauty of Seoul. Too big for one or even ten. Cozy, simple black and white as his theme, his favorite polaroids hanging on his walls. Of his friends and brother --- of him and his family --- and of him.... of them... together, happily smiling with no worries at all.

  
  


_Of what used-to-be's._

  
  


“Do you still love him?” He questioned, his eyes lingering on this particular polaroid that he liked the best. It's in the middle of the wall. He was facing _him_ , _his_ eyes also focused at him in their favorite coffee shop. He was holding his coffee cup, sipping and smiling at him and he was looking back at him with stars in his eyes.

  
  


They were so in love. _Where is the love now?_

  
  


He raised an eyebrow at him when he faced him. There was something amiss in his face. _Sadness. Or perhaps my own imagination._ “I believe that is none of your business, Mr. Park. And you know what I think? I think you should leave my apartment at this moment.”

  
  


“Why did you not chase after him? Why did you let him leave?” He inquired harder.

  
  


“You're such a stalker, Mr Park Woojin. Please get out of my apartment.” His voice was raising at him. He couldn't even look at him anymore.

  
  


His questions were sensitive matters for him, for him-- for the guy that he loved, and for both of them. Why was this man suddenly bringing it up out-of-the-blue? He had no rights to ask him these questions. He was nothing for him. And he would still be just nothing for him in the future.

  
  


Woojin sighed as he took steps towards him. He took his steps back until he had nowhere to go but be trapped by the wall and this man. He tried pushing him off but to no avail. This was so close and he wouldn't let him be closer than he already had been. Whatever happened to them in Paris, he would not let it happen anymore. Not in his apartment, not in Seoul. Not in any part of this world. Not anymore.

  
  


_Once is enough, twice is too much._

  
  


He held him steady, his eyes begging him to see right through him. “I'm asking these not to put you in a tight situation, Jihoon, but I'm genuinely concerned. I want you to forget about him. I want nothing of his memories in you.”

  
  


_Why, his_ mind screamed. “But that's none of your business.” He uttered instead.

  
  


“You..” He said, as he struggled to hug him. He tried, so so hard to stop him, but he was much stronger. Or maybe that was just his defense falling apart. “Listen, and tell me what you hear, then tell me if it's none of my business anymore. Please.”

  
  


He stopped. And suddenly, he realized, everything was falling apart.

  
  


Who's this monster listening to somebody's heart beat? Who's this monster who's ready to give up everything he worked hard because of this heart beat beating erratically at the moment? Who's this monster? Because he, himself, didn't and couldn't recognize. He couldn't recognize what happened to the perfect little _Brown Chameleon_ he knew.

  
  


_It's just the thrill_ , his mind screamed, _the thrill of having someone chase me. I've always been the one chasing. I've always been the one to run after people running away from me. This is the first time someone... someone asked me to stop and the first time someone wants me this bad._

  
  


His mind and his heart screamed. Would he push this man off or would he be tempted?

  
  


But when he looked at him, he had this comforting smile. Right there and then, he knew the answer.

  
  


* * *

  
  


 

_Like breathing, I couldn't hold back my memories._

  
  


(Sometimes, happy memories hurt the most.)

  
  


_Jihoon's always wanted to be a fashion designer. He's always wanted to see the beauty in his dresses, in his clothes. The smooth feel of the fabric in his hands, the smell of led when he drew out his own masterpieces, and the feel of his creations coming into life --- as models walked down the runway._

  
  


_He's always wanted to see the world and its beauty through every beat of the song. The rush of the melody and adrenaline running through his body as he pops, locks, and twirls around. He's always wanted to be a dancer. He's always wanted to dance without inhibition._

  
  


_And they always wanted to be together. From their childhood until the graduation of high school, they have always been together. He was there to fix him his lunchbox as he ran to his dance academy. He waited till he came back with a smile on his face, his hands and fingers creating a clothing he's always fancied to wear during one of their dates. Together, they were supportive of each other. His dream was his dream, and they were going to achieve it together._

  
  


_Together, how ironic._

  
  


_Until two letters separated them apart._

  
  


_**Greetings!** _

_**It gives me tremendous pleasure to inform you that the Juilliard Dance faculty and the Admission Committee have granted you admission to the Modern Dance Program at the Juilliard.** _

  
  


_The letter read. His heart suddenly stopped beating as they sat on their favorite swings. His hands shook a little bit. He wasn't expecting that he'd be applying somewhere far from here in Korea. He'd thought that they might work this out. Together, no one would be leaving anyone behind. Somehow, he wanted them to._

  
  


_“Will this make you happy?” He wondered out loud. His eyes were getting teary._

 

_His eyes were shining with so much adoration. It was his dream, nothing could stop him. “Of course! Jihoon, you know that I really like to dance, right? This is... wow.... I'm almost there, Jihoon. I'm there.... this is Juilliard. This is real!”_

  
  


_He was still oblivious about his broken heart but his dream was so obvious with him. “Then, how about me?” he whispered._

  
  


_The guy froze and turned to him and then he was already breaking down. He ran towards him and hugged him tightly. He hugged him so tight that he wished they could be together like this. “Hoon, you applied for FIT, right? Did you already get the letter? We can be together in New York. We can get an apartment then live together. That's what we want, right? We're in this together.”_

  
  


_There was a loud whiplash of the air. The loud drop of falling leaves._

  
  


_“Right?” He insisted._

  
  


_A moment of silence for Jihoon's broken heart._

  
  


_A moment of silence for the other boy's broken heart._

  
  


_And then he was handing him a letter that broke them apart. Two different dreams and two different worlds, how could they meet halfway?_

  
  


  
  


_**Dear Mr. Jihoon Park,** _

_**Congratulations! We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at London College of Fashion.** _

  
  


 

  
  


  
  


  
  


_***_

  
  


  
  


_For the past few days, I've been circling the same place...._

  
  


There was a meeting. He's half listening, half distracted. Hr kept looking down at his phone, with a light smile on his face. There was something precious about this smile, something light about his aura. He typed down his answer and not a minute passed, there’s a message back for him. Then he'd type and receive again. _Silly and pointless,_ these texts were silly and pointless but it would light him up, it gave him chills in his spine. He felt he was that girl in high school. _Giddy and excited._

  
  


And so unlike of him. When he would usually be stoic and calm during these kinds of meetings.

  
  


”Jihoon!”Someone called. “Jihoon! Jihoon!” Now, he could hear his Dad calling for him.

  
  


He looked up with a raised brow and his own smile fading. Everyone was looking at him. “Yes, Mr. Park?” He asked formally.

  
  


“Listen and concentrate, please! Stop looking at your phone.” His Dad hissed at him.

  
  


Jihoon nodded and put the phone down, but he managed a glance at his phone again.

  
  


_From: Mr. Park Woojin_

_Message: Funny how I'd like to kiss you senseless right now._

  
  


_Oh, how fun would that be,_ he thought as sneaked a wink at the man in front of him. The man sitting in front of him was no other than the Park-fucking-Woojin himself, with his usual expressionless face. Then the time ticked by without them realizing.

  
  


  
  


 

  
  


  
  


  
  


The last person left. Or maybe the last person not involved in this dangerous game left. He was still packing his things – or he was pretending to when someone hovered behind him. Well except for him, Woojin was still inside the meeting room.

  
  


He whispered, “Good afternoon, Jihoonie. Why, you look lovely in yellow today.”

  
  


Park Jihoon giggled, as he stuck his nose in between his ear. “Can you shut up, Mr. Park?”

  
  


Woojin turned him around and they swayed together. Good thing there was no CCTV inside this meeting room. He looked at him as if this was the first time he was looking at anyone. Like this was the first time he ever fell in love. Or was this an illusion, maybe? Yes, maybe it was but he gave 0 fuck about it for now.

  
  


_For now._

  
  


He combed his hair softly, still meeting his eyes. “I'm so happy that you are with me. I have never been this happy in my entire life. To hold you and look at you... and just be with you. It makes me the happiest man in this world, you know? I'm so privileged to be with you like this.”

  
  


They kissed each other with passion. No one wanted to lose in this game. If this was even about playing games anymore. They're dancing with fire and one wrong step might end up burning them. But he was hungry this time so he would bite. He realized with tongues tangled with each other that maybe he was not risking this with anyone else but Park Woojin.

 

What was it with this man that he was OK to put his status on stake? To endanger what he has worked through for a temporary happiness? But then he put his lips on his and Jihoon forgot all the worries, he pressed himself and he embraced the uncertainties. He looked at him as if he was _the only man_ he could see. Like nothing and no one else would matter except them.

  
  


And then he saw this young boy – the young version of this man sucking his soul inside and out. Feeling a little lost and helpless. He remembered this young boy in his yellow jacket and green pants as they went outside with his friends.

  
  


His lips were slowly traveling down from his lips, to his shoulders to his clothed belly and just down down until he was kneeling down. And he all felt powerful. To see him beneath him --- under him – this man wanted him.

  
  


Then the meeting room's door abruptly opened and all of sudden, they were acting as if he was having cramps. One of the secretaries looked at them, surprised and stunned. What and how they looked like, he was not totally sure. Jihoon with his back pressed on the table, his hands digging on it, Park Woojin kneeling down. Jihoon crunched his face as if he was in pain, Woojin massaging his foot. He didn't know how he suddenly took off his shoe.

  
  


“Leg cramp.” Jihoon said, straight-faced. His heart was telling otherwise.

  
  


It was beating offensively against her. She held her breath. What if they screwed up and what if this secretary tattled on them? Would this be the end of everything for them? For him and for Woojin? He looked at Woojin, he was frowning because this little moment was precious enough.

  
  


The secretary nodded, unsure. “I'm sorry, Mr. Park, I just need to get the paper I left.”

  
  


“No problem.” He urged her. The secretary walked in and left as soon as she could. Almost running. As if she was intruding something personal. As if she was a disturbance.

  
  


And then Jihoon was laughing. Woojin stood up, laughing too. They both pressed their backs on the table laughing so loud. So was this the feeling of almost getting caught? Of standing and hanging on the rope? It was thrilling, scary, terrifying, and also very... _arousing_.

  
  


After all, Woojin was intertwining their pinky fingers on the table.

  
  


God, he liked this.

  
  


***

  
  


  
  


There was a party. This time, it was not about him. He was only invited. It was about Ahn Hyeongseob.

  
  


Ahn Hyeongseob was gorgeous in one of the suits he designed. It wasn't one of his favorites because why would he give one of his best suits to --- him? And when did he become this bitter? It didn't hit him right. Ahn Hyeongseob was walking down the stairs gracefully and Park Woojin was waiting for him down. His eyes glued on his husband.

  
  


He looked so delectable. Ravishing. Enthralling. White long sleeves, the top buttons left opened, black suit complimenting his long sleeves. His pants black, long legs that could go forever. His black hair parted in the middle, bangs covering his eyebrows. He was bounded with a spell.

  
  


Everyone was clapping their hands as Ahn Hyeongseob and Park Woojin danced around, a proud and satisfied smile on his lips. His left hand wrapped around his tiny waist and his right hand gently wrapped around his own. Hyeongseob had a proud smile, as if he won the lottery and the man he was dancing with was his prize.

  
  


Then he could hear a loud thump in his heart. A thump that wanted to burst out, his heart wanted to split into two. And there was a loud roar. He clutched his heart as he looked at them.

  
  


There was a green eyed monster living inside of him. And the green eyed monster had a name.

  
  


_Jealousy_ was never his friend.

 

But, this moment, jealousy and Park Jihoon were _the best of friends_.

 

So he tuned out everything else except his best friend. He listened to his new best friend.

  
  


  
  


* * * *

  
  


  
  


_“_ Jihoon!” Ahn Hyeongseob greeted him, jogging oh-so-gracefully towards where he's standing. His hand dragging his husband to wherever he was at the moment. And Jihoon wanted to stop him because right at this moment, he wasn't so sure of what to say or how to feel.

  
  


The last thing he could do was to fake a smile. But he did. “Happy Birthday, Hyeongseob-gun.”

  
  


_Ahn Hyeongseob_ beamed at him and hugged him. He stood awkwardly without looking at Woojin who was, in return, trying to meet his eyes. “I'm so glaaaad” He drawled on the word. “that you're here. Your suit is very lovely, isn't it?” And then Hyeongseob turned around for more emphasis. “Thank you for designing this. Isn't it great, Woojinie?” He urged him.

  
  


Woojin smiled and for the first time Jihoon looked back at him. “Why, of course. Everything that Park Jihoon-gun does is lovely.'

  
  


His eyes widened at what he said.

  
  


But then he smiled lovingly at his husband. _Husband_ , he thought. What a way to slap him right in his own face.

  
  


“I mean, Hyeongseobbie, everything also looks good on you.”

  
  


Hyeongseob giggled and blushed. The said man hit him lightly. Too annoying. “You are such a charmer, Woojinie. Not in front of Jihoon, please.”

  
  


“Well, I'm pretty sure Park Woojin-gun is a real charmer.” Jihoon piped up.

  
  


Woojin raised his eyebrow at him, as he gave a smile. Taunting and mocking. They both looked at each other, trying to challenge each other in front of Ahn Hyeongseob, Woojin's husband. _Now, really?_

  
  


Ahn Hyeongseob shook his head, dismissing them. “Errr.. please excuse us, Jihoon.” He said, holding his husband again. Park Jihoon did not miss how Hyeongseob looked uneasy when he looked back at him. Jihoon could only raise his wine glass at him, and sipped.

  
  


In the middle of the party, when everyone was enjoying themselves, Park Jihoon found himself inside his car, unopened messages on his phone.

  
  


_From: Mr. Park Woojin_

_Message: You are the most gorgeous man tonight. Note that._

  
  


_From: Mr. Park Woojin_

_Message: Where are you, Jihoonie?_

  
  


_From: Mr. Park Woojin_

_Message: Did you leave? Why?_

  
  


_From: Mr. Park Woojin_

_Message: Let's talk later._

  
  


He'd never been jealous in all his existence. Everyone made sure he was the best. They made sure that he was only showered with love and affection. Only this man and this relationship (could he even call it that?) made him think twice, made him so unsure. And he wasn't exactly certain if this was even worth it.

  
  


_I think I'm spelled._

  
  


_**_

  
  


  
  


Two weeks passed since then. Not one message was answered. He wanted nothing but peace of mind. Away from distractions also known as Park-fucking-Woojin who plagued his mind consistently. He wanted to let himself loose and be free because everything's been so suffocating.

  
  


Here in Tokyo, it would be another story. And history won't repeat itself.

  
  


He wasn't intoxicated with alcohol. He didn't even touch any alcohol at all. Inside the club where for some hours, he could lose himself, he danced like his life depended on it. Like he's never danced before in all his life.

  
  


_He danced with him._

  
  


There was someone behind him dancing, but he was not certain who.

  
  


_He danced with him with so much passion. Left, right, left, right._

  
  


_They both laughed, exhaustively lying on his dance studio._

  
  


_Both of their hands outstretched, fingers touching._

  
  


And someone was wrapping his hands on his waist, dragging him outside the club. He crunched his nose in disgust and wheeled around to see who it was. Well hello there, Mr. Park Woojin, live and in flesh in Tokyo. His face akin to dark gray sky. Angry and frowning. As if somebody stole something from him. His eyes lusciously dark as he dragged him outside.

  
  


Park Woojin pushed him inside his car, fuming and when he went inside his car, he drove away.

  
  


The last thing he heard outside was the loud roar of thunder.

  
  


  
  


_* * *_

  
  


 

  
  


His apartment --- or one of his apartments was spaciously luxurious. He noticed how outside, he could see the Tokyo Tower. Very impressive. Gray couches, white walls, and brown mats. He stood there, glaring at the man sitting on one of the couches, his hands covering his face, heaving loudly.

  
  


But the thunder was roaring loudly outside, lightning giving more emphasis to the gray sky out.

  
  


Park Jihoon counted _one, two, three_ , sighing and decided that he's had enough. He tried to walk but before he could even pass him, he held his wrist. His face was stern and serious but still looked gorgeous. All defined and sharp jaw locked, seething with anger.

  
  


His lips were parted slightly, breathing heavily. He was looking at him, dark marvelous eyes. For the first time, he was stunned. This was the first time someone's looking at him with so much desperation and disappointment. Desperation of and for what? Weren't they just playing games here?

  
  


“What. Are. You. Doing?” He asked, voice so low. He's always taken a liking of his sweet and husky voice. This time though, it was authoritative and venomous, unlike the previous sweet voice he's used to. And he didn't know if he liked or hated it.

  
  


He heaved a sigh, trying to free himself. “What do you mean? How did you even know --- wait, neverfuckingmind. LET ME GO!”

  
  


“I'M ASKING! What. Are. You. Doing?” He hissed viciously.

  
  


“WHAT? Mr. Park, while I'm still being polite, let me go.”

  
  


“OH WOW!” He mocked. “We're back to being Mr. Parks now, are we? Huh? After fcuking each other, we're now back to that part, _Jihoon-gun_.'” He put a dangerous emphasis on _gun._

  
  


He froze. “Mr. Park, yes, we have fucked, but that's just it.”

  
  


His hand on his wrist tightened. “That's just it? NO! I refuse this! It's not just about that! Why weren't you answering my calls and texts? Why are you here? What were you doing? Why did you go without telling me? What were you doing????!??” In one single breath, he asked.

  
  


If he wasn't shouting, he could be amazed at how fast he asked these questions. It would've been a nice joke. Maybe. He could have said he could be a rapper had he been an idol.

 

There was a deafening silence. He met his cold hard gaze. God, he looked nicer when he's angry. The tip of his ears were red, his face red as a tomato, too. And _oh my god, his eyes are dark and luminous with fuming anger._

 

“Why do you care?” He inquired, breaking the silence. He also stopped trying to free himself. It was no use anyway.

  
  


This man in front of him looked at him, hurt and gloomy. “Why... do I care?” He repeated, as if he didn't hear it correctly. “Woah, tell me, Jihoon why do I care? Aren't.. you and I in a relationship?”

  
  


“A relationship?” He demanded, unbelieving, shaking his head. “We are NOT in a relationship, Mr. Park. There will never be you and I in this lifetime. Not now, not ever. Why are you even insisting something that cannot be ours, Mr. Park?”

  
  


He let his hand go. And then his wrist felt never so bare. His body felt the chill. Was this another time wherein he had to let somebody go in his life? Would he be watching someone walk out on him again? Could he survive this time? But then again, he reminded himself this was not a relationship to begin with. No Park Jihoon and Park Woojin in this life, unlike before.

  
  


When he thought the storm was over between them, when he was about to go, Woojin abruptly and quietly said, “Why can't you see that I've chased you from before until now? Why can't you see that you are mine and I'm yours? Fully yours, Jihoon?”

 

Jihoon looked back at him, surprised to hear that. “You're not mine, I'm not even yours. I will never be yours!” He spat angrily and bitterly. Why was he insisting this again and again? “Remember, Mr. Park, that you are married to Ahn Hyeongseob.”

 

Park Woojin then pulled him into his arms, and his own t-shirt was already wet. But with what? _Tears? “_ You are mine, Jihoon, the same way I am yours. Fully, wholly, so please never ever think the otherwise.”

  
  


But the ring on his left finger shining brightly told another story.

  
  


  
  


  
  


_My greed that used to be small is getting bigger._

  
  


_***_

  
  


  
  


Park Woojin liked building things, he observed as he ran his fingers through his collection of figurines, now sitting in Jihoon's own bookshelf. His figurines in his bookshelf, oh what a sight. For what was his became his, as well.

  
  


He liked poetry and spoke like a poet, as well. Quite surprisingly, he knows. He promised of forever and never ending, of infinities and beyond. _(Jihoon, and maybe our pasts were meant to be so damn broken so that when we met, we'd fit together that nothing would ever break us again.)_ Something he knew that they didn't have. For he would never be his. _The most cliche part._ His things and belongings sitting in his apartment could be his, but he, himself could never be his.

  
  


He drew Jihoon like a masterpiece. His tongue. a paint brush, his body as a blank canvas. He held him as if he were his favorite game. Gently, he caressed each and every nook of his body, no holds barred between the two of them. He spread him open and every signal of him body desires. Like he was only his and he was only his. _But only in this time would this ever happen._

  
  


And when they came in the climax part, both of their hearts were pounding loudly in their ears, high and excited, adrenaline rushing through their veins. Never wanting to let go, holding on to each other.

  
  


“I like you so much.” He said, caressing his naked back as they both lie on the bed.

  
  


Jihoon looked at him, smiling, admiring how he could create words only he would ever know. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  
  


“You know,” Woojin stated with an amused smile. “You really have a raunchy mouth, but that's what I like about you.”

  
  


He rolled his eyes at him, hitting his hard smooth chest. “So what the hell is I like you again?”

  
  


“I like you.” He repeated. Like it's an obvious statement. “I like you, what's so hard to understand about it?

  
  


Only their free-spirited laughter could be heard in the apartment.

 

  
  


_***_

  
  


_Woojin_

  
  


  
  


_His Dad told him to wear that bright yellow coat, green pants and grabby mittens that he oh-so-hate because it was very cold outside and winter's coming so why would his Dad want to go out, he didn't understand. But then again, as a good boy and a good son who wanted nothing but please his Dad, he obliged._

  
  


_Inside the car, Driver Bae was driving them, listening as his Dad kept mumbling stories about the family they were about to meet. The Parks. Apparently, his Dad and Mr. Park were good old friends, and the Parks owned various hotel chains in different parts of the world. And the Parks, his family, owned different restaurant chains and the two men wanted to chat._

  
  


_Or do business, whichever floats their way._

  
  


_Why not the Parks go to their house instead, little Woojin thought bitterly as he looked out of the car speeding past different houses that looked alike and bored Woojin to death._

  
  


_After 20 minutes of just watching outside, they went inside this almost a castle house. The interior made it seem like a real castle and little Woojin was in awe because even though their house was big, it was modest type of big but this one..... was simply huge. There were many maids ushering them inside and he couldn't help but be awestruck._

  
  


_When they got inside, something caught his eyes._

  
  


_A huuuuge family portrait inside the living room. The other Park family. Sitting on a chair was, he could guess, Mr. Park with a strict smile on his face, standing on his left was the little boy no older than him, chubby flushed cheeks with a smile, and standing at the back of the chair was a beautiful woman with short hair, and his hands on the shoulders of Mr. Park so he assumed it was the Mom._

  
  


_And then that boy on Mr. Park's lap._

  
  


_He was smiling widely, his eyes... his brother had brown eyes, his Dad black eyes, and his Mom was of similar with they young boy Park, so why was this little boy's eyes different? Little Woojin wondered. But then he also thought they were pretty eyes... very pretty. The prettiest eyes, if he could actually say._

  
  


Maybe I could meet him later _, Woojin wished excitedly._ Maybe we could be the best of friends since I only have Jinyoung to play with me.

  
  


_His Dad and Mr. Park disappeared in one of the rooms, leaving poor little Woojin in the living room with his favorite milk and cookies and a promise of behaving himself and he heard that Mr. Park's sons would be coming down in awhile. Truthfully, he didn't want the sons to come down, he wanted to meet the one that he saw in the portrait. He tapped his chubby hands on his knees waiting._

  
  


_And not a few minutes later, he heard voices as kids sang and Park Woojin was a shy boy so instead of actually greeting them with a stupid smile, he hid himself behind the couch. He watched them, the young Parks and two more boys coming down from the castle stair he only saw in fairy tales._

  
  


_“Hoonie, I want to play outside.” The older Park said, holding his hand._

  
  


_The boy ruffled his hair and he huffed but with a pouty smile on his face. “But it's cold.”_

  
  


_“That's OK! I will help you warm up.” The boy who was holding his left hand said, getting his attention. The young Jihoon smiled at him affectionately. He was quite chubby and a little bit taller than him but the young boy was smiling at him with love,_ why would he, he isn't even handsome. Unlike me.

  
  


_Park Woojin decided he hated that young boy already._

  
  


_Then the young boy scanned his eyes around and then finally he met those brown eyes._

  
  


_Little Woojin widened his eyes and inside his head, he sulked. Why was he wearing this ugly bright yellow coat??!??!!! And then he gave him a smile that made the three other boys looked at him back. And then they dragged him outside already._

  
  


_“Let's gooooooo~” The third boy whined cutely._

  
  


_He couldn't help but smile back as he looked at him with those pretty eyes and smile while they dragged him out._

  
  


_They were still looking at each other even when the four were outside and he realized he looked the prettiest like the snow falling on his head. It wasn't even snowing awhile ago but never mind that because all he could see was she was shining and clear while he ran around with the other boys playing with snow._

  
  


_On the first snow of winter that year, he realized for the first time his heart beat the fastest. On the first snow of winter that year, the young boy shone so bright inside his mind, boy was he struck with an arrow in his heart. Now, he realized he loved winter._

  
  


**Park Jihoon.**

  
  


_He learned from his Dad that was his name while returning back home after visiting the Parks. And that was a name he would never forget in his life._

  
  


  
  


_**_

  
  


 

 _(Park Jihoon,_ Woojin sighed for the nth time.)

  
  


_He's the epitome of the perfect man. The man any man or woman would ever be proud of, **the only man** he'd want to be with by his side. He's untouchable and _ he's all that I want in my life _. Ever since young Woojin saw that boy in his bright pink coat, it was safe to say he was obsessed. He'd be thinking about him every day and every night, he got it so bad._

  
  


_Even his best friend, Bae Jinyoung would agree._

  
  


_“It's creepy.” Jinyoung shuddered as they hid themselves at the isolated part of the park near the school of Park Jihoon. He and Jinyoung attended an all boys school that coincidentally they all would attend. However, Jihoon and his other batch would go home first since they were a year below Jihoon's other friends were._

  
  


_“Why do we always have to watch him like this, Woojin? Just go to him and introduce yourself!” Jinyoung whined, pushing him towards the boy._

  
  


_He was still very pretty even 10 years after he first saw him. He would play by himself first in the swings while waiting for his other friends and he would watch him from afar._

  
  


“ _It's been ten years, Woojin.” Jinyoung reminded him, but he was only half-listening._

  
  


_He watched as Jihon tried to swing himself higher and higher and he was getting more excited as he went higher each time. He watched with a smile on his face and Jinyoung who was beside him just shook his head. Because he was really smitten for ten long years._

  
  


_He's no longer that 6 year old boy who watched Park Jihoon getting dragged outside. He's no longer that 6 year old boy wearing that bright yellow coat but instead a 16 year old still helplessly in love with_ _the same boy from ten years back._

  
  


_And then he found himself running as he saw Jihoon flying from his swing and fell down on the ground. He expected him to cry very loudly because that hurt but when he was in front of him, kneeling down, he was just blowing his wounded knees and still smiling casually._

  
  


_“Are...” He was about to ask, courage finally getting into him, chest heavy from nervousness._

  
  


_But then, they heard a loud, ”Jihoon!” From the guy he hated and then he pushed him away from the said boy. He tried so hard not to punch him but Jinyoung already was taking him away from them and he watched as the boy blew his wounded knee which he oh-so-wanted to do and then he was piggybacking him with a smile on his face. As if it was a good thing that Jihoon got hurt.... as if.... it wasn't an obligation to give him a piggyback... as if he was.... in love._

  
  


_“I heard they are dating, Woojin hyung.” He heard Jinyoung say from afar, still dragging him away. “That's Kang Daniel and I heard that their families really like each other. And it was said that they are dating. Maybe you should stop watching him from afar now, Woojin hyung.”_

  
  


_Dating or not, he would do everything just to get him away from him._

  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


_**_

  
  


_You revolve inside my head and I get lost in it alone_

  
  


_He was hopeless, Jinyoung liked reminding him that. Every single damn time. Hopelessly obsessed with Park Jihoon and much much much in love, as well. He wouldn't spare him a single glance because Kang Daniel would always be there. He would, as if intentionally, try to ruin any chances that would make Jihoon spare him just one single glance._

  
  


_He wanted to just aimlessly walk when he saw Jihoon and Daniel at the same playground that one faithful almost encounter one year ago. He hid himself not too far away, because Daniel was excitedly saying something to Jihoon and the younger one wasn't even reacting which he found strange._

  
  


_Jihoon was always smiling and happy. His pretty smile with his cute teeth showing would rival a sun for its brightness. He was a happy pill. But now, he wasn't. He noticed how slumped his shoulders were, how he was only looking down, how his aura wasn't of that bubbly and happy Jihoon anymore. But why wasn't Daniel noticing this? Why was he still shoving a letter in his face and then_ ohmygod _! He was crying on the cold ground with him wrapped around his._

  
  


_He balled his fist from anger because how could anyone stomach hurting this happy pill? How could a Kang Daniel just hurt him when all he, Park Woojin, wanted was to hold him and be with him and love him? Kang Daniel had all the right to do what he wanted to do and yet he managed to hurt him – to fuck up._

  
  


_Because if he were in his place, he wouldn't hurt the Park Jihon. Never._

  
  


  
  


  
  


_**_

  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


_I guess it has always been you, Jihoon._

  
  


The only problem was he's _**married**_. And to say he was hallucinating was an understatement.

  
  


Ahn Hyeongseob--- he was a sweet guy, a bit of an airhead, but still kind. He married him just to shut up his Dad because he was the perfect son. He was a sacrificial lamb, but still despite of everything, he was a good husband to him. He catered to everything he wanted and needed. And even more than that. They lived happily and merrily.

  
  


But two years into their marriage, Park Jihoon decided to go back to Korea to settle down after going through different countries. And the first time he heard about it, he was excited... too excited, in fact. He even put a disguise on when he went to the airport as people and media crowded _his Brown Chameleon._ And then he was struck with awe... he went speechless.

  
  


H _e was wearing a military-inspired coat, white tank top inside, and washed ripped jeans on. His black sunglasses obstructing his very pretty brown eyes. His medium short brown hair was neatly curled around. He had this tiny smile and he could see that same smile that could rival all the brightness in this world._

  
  


_And boy was he smitten._

  
  


_It'd been long since the last time he saw him. He'd been in and out of the country for the past years after graduating from London College of Fashion. Yes, he had been keeping tabs about it --- about him, in particular. And all these years, he just looked from afar. He never did anything. He stood still waiting and watching from afar._

  
  


_Not even when that guy left him._

  
  


_No matter how much he wanted to erase his sadness as he watched him weeping for that guy as he left the country. He also watched Jihoon leave the country to pursue what he wanted in his life. And he did nothing at all but then he came back and he thought_ it's now or never.

  
  


  
  


**

  
  


_You shine brighter so everyone is jealous_

  
  


_Park Jihoon,_ Woojin noticed, liked simplicity. He didn't like fanciful things, didn't like gifts or anything, he preferred being spoiled with love and kisses and affection. Things that didn't mean material wise. Why would he when everything was set right under his foot?

  
  


Jihoon was a spell book. Nobody would understand, people would be curious here and there and for its unintelligible content, nobody would try to read. To see something new meant excitement and curiosity but to fully dwell on it, no one had enough patience for.

  
  


So he carefully threaded everything for him --- about him. Patiently. Like he's been waiting all these years.

  
  


He was the biggest mystery of his life. The more you try to read in between the lines, the more hooked up you have become to the mystery. He was neither black nor white. He could be spelled by him.

  
  


There was something about his brown eyes, the way it would roll at his lame jokes and the way it would roll when they make love. His brown eyes would always crinkle when he laughed at him, eyes disappearing as he snuggled on his chest. He felt like his lungs would disappear soon too. For Jihoon was holding his arms and he wasn't sure if he ever noticed but there would be times his arms would tremble from his excitement in the fleeting moment of holding Jihoon in his own arms.

  
  


There was something about his smile. So new and fresh to look at. It's too dangerous because once Jihoon flashes his perfect white teeth on him, he knows he'd drop everything for him.

  
  


Park Woojin found out that he was quite a singer and a dancer. He sang of confidence when he worked, especially on the bed. He was just as vocal, hitting the proper high notes as they came from their high, bodies dancing as one. He flexed gracefully when they both rocked. The stars in his eyes were millions he counted them before because he liked meeting his eyes. He was hypnotized.

  
  


The galaxies in his eyes were overwhelming. He was overwhelmed.

  
  


For Woojin, it was more than the thrill of having and holding the intangible Park Jihoon. More than the thought of being with an unattainable man, it was more of loving the unfolded insecurities deep within him when he thought nobody read and when he thought everyone would leave.

  
  


For Woojin, he was here to stay.

  
  


Unlike _him_ , he would choose Jihoon over and over again.

  
  


And nothing and nobody could tear them apart.

  
  


  
  


  
  


**

_As I see you leaving_

  
  


 

He was meeting Jinyoung after not seeing his only friend for two years. Bae Jinyoung has become one of the most successful fashion designers in Korea and has also been in and out of the country for the past years. And he's happy to be meeting him since he's the only one who knew him the best.

  
  


He was excited to tell him about him and Jihoon, because even though they were apart for the last few years, he spent most of the time with him. He and Bae Jinyoung were childhood friends. Jinyoung's Dad was their driver and the Park family helped the Bae especially funding Jinyoung and Jaeyeong's education. And even if they grew from different backgrounds, Woojin and Jinyoung instantly became the best of friends. Bae Jinyoung knew his passion for Park Jihoon and he knew he'd understand and support.

  
  


The only thing Bae Jinyoung never understood was his decision to tie a knot with Ahn Hyeongseob when he obviously and he quoted Jinyoung, “You don't love him, ever since we were young, Woojin hyung, your eyes are solely for Park Jihoon-ssi. So why?”

  
  


He, too, wondered the same thing.

  
  


Woojin was smiling widely, taking a sip of his wine, ready to tell him the news when Jinyoung smiled at him, as if apologetically and asked, “Do you know the news?”

  
  


The man was baffled because why would Jinyoung smile at him like he was sorry for him? As if he was pitying him? The times Jinyoung gave that kind of smile was when he didn't have enough courage to face Jihoon and introduce himself. But it's different now, he held him, made love with him, and be with him.

  
  


“What news?”

  
  


Bae Jinyoung took a sip of his own wine and with a heavy sigh, he said. “I heard from the rumors that Yoon Jisung is coming back to Seoul.”

  
  


Yoon Jisung, the guy who was also best friends with Park Jihoon, the guy with humorous personality. The famous and genius Yoon Jisung who became a celebrity in Hollywood. One of the most-sought actors in Korea. _Great_ , he smiled. Maybe if he met him, he'd meet one of the guys who grew up with _his Jihoon_. That would be exciting, as well, for them.

  
  


He nodded, taking the news lightly. “Great, that's great, isn't it?”

  
  


“And so is Kang Daniel. Kang Daniel is staying in Seoul for good.”

  
  


The next second he found himself typing messages to Jihoon.

  
  


 

 _To: Park Jihoon_ ❤️

_Message: Where are you? Let's meet up in 30._

  
  


_To: Park Jihoon_ ❤️

_Message: I need to see you. Please don't leave me._

  
  


  
  


But none of these messages were seen or replied.

  
  


None of these were happening, Woojin thought worriedly as he fumbled with his keys. Jinyoung tried stopping him, but Woojin's eyes were pleading him not to interfere anymore and Woojin deep down inside thanked him as he nodded to his only friend and left the restaurant. Because Woojin might not say it to his only friend, but Woojin knew that Jinyoung _knew._ Somehow.

  
  


_From: Park Jihoon_ ❤️

_Message: Busy._

  
  


  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what do you think????????????


	3. for he knows it's the end

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's going to end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's been long i know lol  
> but i'll try to update and finish this next week, promise!  
> un-betaed!!!
> 
> Are you TEAM Woojin or TEAM Daniel? Because I wanna know!!!

 

  


  


If there's anything, work is the most important part of Park Jihoon's life. When it's work, everyone knew better than to distract or to disturb him. No matter who you are, he'd retreat to his own shell and shut everybody else. He had his own deadlines – deadlines he set himself – to work on and right now all he wanted was to finish it. It's been two days of not returning back to his own apartment, asking Sungwoon to get his clothes for him. Because as much as he played around, he worked triple harder for it.

  


His brother liked reminding him that it's unhealthy because he didn't bother eating for the days he was busy, didn't bother to check his phone or email and his office was also off limits to anything during these kind of busy days. It's unhealthy and uncalled for but during the time his secretary Sungwoon worked for him, his secretary was accustomed to it, occasionally getting him food and takeouts here and there. And at times, his older brother would give him something to eat when he's free.

  


So when his office's door slammed loudly at 11 o'clock in the evening, he jumped up scaring himself. Who would bother to go to his office when it's obviously close and no one's around because he had told Sungwoon to leave already? He got up tiredly, wiping his hands on his denim pants and was about to take a golf club that his oldest best friend Jisung (which he didn't bother opening because he didn't know how to use it and never mind the fact that one of his rooms had a mini golf course because we're talking about Yoon Jisung, the most stubborn man in the world) when somebody pushed him.

  


“Whaaa-” He was about to ask when Park Jihoon silenced him by capturing his lips. And it was anything but gentle. His mind screamed, _how the fuck did you get in_ but it's Park fucking Woojin so he knew better than that and he was kissing him so brutally forceful his lips would bruise and he was holding him tightly, he knew that after this it would injure his hands.  
  


When they part, he took a deep breath and captured his lips again, throwing the things off his desk which made him more irritated than he already was and he was suddenly locking his grip on his hair and then Jihoon could only think of how it _hurt_ and _pained_ him because why was Woojin acting a psycho?

  


“You're mine.” He whispered in his lips, his eyes were unfocused and unstable.

  


The loud heart beats were what he could only concentrate as they breathed heavily. And then he looked at him and all he could see was an insecure guy whose face and eyes were lost. His aura emitting insecurities of himself and he could taste it through his tongue.

  


Instead of getting mad, he held his face down and he saw tears forming in his eyes. Eyes that used to smile. “What's wrong with you?” He asked worriedly.

  


“Don't leave me.” He sobbed. “Don't leave me. Don't go. Please, Jihoon. Promise me...”

  


The desperation in his voice scared Jihoon. “Why... would I ----?”

  


“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU BOTH DOING HERE?” A third voice asked.

  


He knew they were doomed.

  


Standing on his door was none other Minhyun, his own brother.

  


**

  


Minhyun had always been the more protective one between the Park siblings. The reason why he took Taekwondo was to protect his brother even though he knew his other friends, Jisung and Daniel even more so would also protect him. But Minhyun was always a responsible one. He took it himself to always take care of his younger brother.

  


And right now, Jihoon was so sure his older brother didn't know how or what to do especially seeing his own baby brother in a very compromising position with no less than a married man, thankyouverymuch. The surprise was very evident in his face and then from surprise it turned angry and all he could do was to step in between them.

  


“Minhyun hyung...” He called out, closing to his brother, shaking his head both in warning of Minhyun and himself because of whatever he was putting himself into. This was his brother now who just witnessed a scene he shouldn't be involving himself with in the very first place.

  


He heard Woojin sigh and he was more than aware of his surroundings. How Minhyun was clenching down his fists and how Woojin just wanted him to face him.

  


“Look, Minhyun- _ssi_ ,” Woojin said, pleading. Almost. “Jihoon and I need to talk.” Desperation evident in his voice.

  


Minhyun tried stepping forward only to be met by Jihoon's stopping hands. '”Jihoon, you say? You and my brother are way too familiar with each other, aren't you?”

  


Jihoon sighed. “Hyung, please.”

  


“What are you doing?” He asked him in the tiniest voice he could muster which usually scared him more often than not because he would usually use this kind of voice when he was trying to scare someone. “He's – he's...”

  


“Please..” Woojin begged impatiently once more.

  


“You..” Minhyun turned to him this time and neither of them could predict what Minhyun could do next because before either of them moved, Woojin was already on the floor with a bloody nose. His brother was to hit once more when he tried stepping in between, his fist in the air. “GO AWAY, JIHOON. Just... go away.”

  


Jihoon turned to Woojin this time. His nose was bleeding and God knows whatever things his brother could do to him if he insisted so he opted to say, “Woojin, please leave. Just leave. I will talk to you later, I promise.”

  


“But..”

  


“I promise. We will talk later.” He pleaded.

  


Woojin left but not after kissing him on his forehead, his eyes trained to challenge Minhyun even more and boy was he doomed because when he turned to his brother, he had his eyes close, his left hand massaging his temple and nose flaring and if this wasn't an impending doom for him, he didn't know anymore.

  


**

_Because of this stupid love_

  


Park Jihoon knew it was stupid, he didn't need anybody to remind him that. Especially not from his brother who was currently hovering over his table as he sat down on his own chair. He wasn't crying, he was just stoic but somehow deep down inside of him, he was freaking out. From all the people who could have actually witnessed it, it was his brother.

  


His brother who had so much respect to him even though he's younger than him. Minhyun, whom he looked up to all this time. Only finding out that he was having an affair with a married man. His younger brother who graduated with flying colors, smart – perfect, amazing and... a _second man._ He shuddered just by the though of it.

  


“Speak.” Minhyun's voice was stern. Unlike of his usual sweet voice that used to calm everyone before.

  


And he had never been so scared of his brother.

  


“Explain.” Another order.

  


“Hyung, please. I'm just ---”

  


“He's... married.” The way he said married, his voice became thin. “Are you seriously in a relationship with him? Because the way he was holding you, when he kissed you... Jihoon! What are you thinking? Are you crazy?”

  


“No.. not like that.”

  


“Then what?”

  


_The excitement? The thrill, maybe? When his lips are on mine and when he says I'm his and only his. When he says he's mine and only mine. When he looks at me like I was his favorite subject? When he smiles at me like I was the only one in this world._

  


But instead of saying these, he looked at the ground helplessly. An exasperated sigh escaped his lips. “I'm going to end this, Minhyun hyung. It's bound to end. I'm just --- we're only playing games.”

  


“A game?” The disbelief in his voice was evident. “A game wherein you lie to other people and what? Maybe a good fuck Right, Jihoon? Did you even think of what people would tell you? What people would even throw at you? To be with a married man? Did you think of how hard you've worked to be wherever you are? Are you willing to throw it for him?”

  


_Sometimes yes, when I think about it._

  


_“_ Is he worth it?”

  


An earsplitting silence.

  


A drop of another question. “Do you love him?”

  


_How do you describe love?_ , he wondered still not looking up. _Do I love him? But his eyes are hypnotizing and his smile is enticing._

  


His brother sighed, going to him. He squat to meet his eyes. This time his brown eyes were gentle. “I love you, Jihoon, that's why this has to end. Don't meet him anymore. You can't meet Park Woojin anymore. Do you understand me, Jihoon?”

  


He met his eyes, he had nothing to say anymore.

  


“And Jihoon, he's coming back. He will go back to you. So forget Park Woojin.”

  


  


_To: Mr. Park_

_Message: End of the game. I'm sorry._

  


  


  


**

_I will do everything for you again_

  


_Jihoon stepped forward to him. Daniel took a step towards Jihoon. Eyes meeting and lost in trance. Lost inside a world here nobody could enter save from them._

  


_They touched, bodies moving as one. His hands on top of his, swaying back and forth. No space in between them cause it had always been Jihoon and Daniel or more like JihoonAndDaniel. As one. Together._

  


_Jihoon took a step away, his hands trying to reach out as he glided to go forward. At this point, Daniel was chasing him (or Jihoon was chasing him). It had always been chasing each other, hearts in their mouth yet too afraid to speak up, too coward to get hurt._

  


_Jihoon then twirled on the floor as Daniel lifted his hands in the air. And then Jihoon was running to him, as he waited and lifted him in the air, both of them spinning in circles. He carefully put Jihoon down as he traveled his lips on his once he was safely on the ground._

  


_“I'm so in love with you.” He confessed, eyes trained on his._

  


_He was so beautiful. Under the dim light of the rented studio, with nothing but loud heart beats and music as their background. Their sweaty foreheads touching and hair messy._

  


_He repeated. “I'm so in love with you. I would repeat it again and again until I can no longer speak. Until I can only dance into the tune of your heart. I'm in love with you.'_

  


_“As I am. I will only stop loving you until I counted all the stars in your eyes.” Jihoon said back, feeling all fuzzy inside._

  


_But then again there are millions of stars in his eyes so to stop loving him would be **impossible**._

  


  


With every step of Jihoon's foot and every flickered of his wrist, he only had his eyes focused in the mirror as he danced. With every step, there was nothing but anger and hate in those brown eyes. He was frustrated as he couldn't keep up with the steps. So he did it again and again. And again until he landed on the floor trying with a loud thud.

  


_''Why did you not chase after him? Why did you let him leave?'' Woojin asked him._ He remembered he asked him this once.

  


And then he remembered everything clear in his mind. An empty promise of coming back.

  


_“It will only be for four years and then after that, you will be back from London College of Fashion and I will be back from Juilliards.”_

  


_“And then?” He urged, wanting him to speak more. He would miss this the most. To hear his soothing voice of this man he only loved. Four years... how long would that be?_

  


_He inhaled, patting the younger's head on his chest lovingly. “And then we will get married. Together we will achieve our dreams with our adopted babies Daniel and Jihoon.” And both of them laughed as they imagined what it would be when they both returned._

  


_Jihoon clutched to his shirt more as if it would make them closer. “Do you really want to marry me?”_

  


_“Jihoon,” Daniel lifted his face off to see it tear-strained. “You are the first, the last and t **he only man** I will want to share my life with. From before until now and until there is a tomorrow. And you know that time will not stop so there is always a tomorrow. As long as there is tomorrow, I will love you.”_

  


_He nodded. He believed him._

  


  


But then again, promises are meant to broken, too.

  


 

_“Four more years.” Kang Daniel whispered, eyes not meeting his in the video call. For the very first time, he didn't want to meet his brown eyes._

  


_He opened his mouth, wanting to ask what he meant, but secretly had a notion of what it was. Supposedly, it was the happiest moment of his life. To see himself finishing the degree with a flying color, to see himself being established as one of the best designers in the world. It was supposedly to be great, to know that everything was worth it._

  


_“Four more years.” He repeated._

  


_“Four more years of what?” Jihoon's lips trembled, knees jelly from adrenaline rush. He would be going back home to Seoul... to him... finally. Or so he thought._

  


_“The crew will be having a world tour, Hoon. First, in different states here and then after that.... I can reach the world. Please, four more years, Hoon, and I'll settle. We will settle, I promise.” The unsureness in his voice made him think he, too, was hurting._

  


_His goofy smile faded. :”Since --- when will you start the tour?”_

  


_“Tomorrow, Hoon, I'm sorry, I should have told you earlier but I didn't know how to break it to you. I'm sorry, Hoon, but we are too young and my dreams --- your dreams are just fingertips away. Let's not waste it, please? I'll be back and you will be prouder than you'll ever be of me. Just --- Hoon?”_

  


_“You know,” His voice was of a whisper, his lips were trembling, tears were ready to fall. “You should stop thinking you're doing it for my own good, too. I know what's good for me. And you know what's good for you now. You made your own choice.”_

  


_“Hoon please...”_

  


_“It's like running in circles, Niel-ah. This time, I only give you my best wishes, Niel. Good luck – no, isn't it supposed to be break a leg?” And there's a bitter laugh coming from Jihoon's side._

  


_His line went dead and so did his heart. The world stopped. His heart did._

  


 

_***_

  


  


  


_'Is he worth it?'_

 

Minhyun's voice echoed inside his head, spinning him around in the studio dance floor.

  


_**Was Woojin worth the trouble?** _

  


_**Am I in love with you, Woojin?**_

  


_Woojin swayed both of them to the tune of his made up humming. One step, two step and bend. One step, two step then twirl. One step, two step and sway._

  


Funny, _he thought while dancing with him, how this dance was a hit-or-miss for them. No step was ever needed, no proper dance step yet they could sway both of them together. Unlike how fixed his steps with Daniel. For Daniel was a dancer, Woojin was more of freestyle._

  


_There was no music, raw made up tune and only their heart beats pounding loudly in their ears. Sunlight illuminating both of them inside his apartment. Both laughing to their hearts' content, his hands securely on his waist, Jihoon's on his neck._ Goodness Gracious, _Park Woojin was ethereal. It made him dizzy._

  


_“Can you entertain me with a story?” He requested. He thought a lot about it, eyes teasing him and when Jihoon hit him lightly, he smiled warmly and nodded. “Ahn Hyeongseob.”_

  


_“What about him?”_

  


_“Tell me why you're risking your marriage for an affair like this. I want you to tell me everything you wanted to tell me that you didn't have any chance to.”_

  


_Woojin took a deep breath. His voice was now lower and more serious than it was. “He is a nice guy. Hyeongseob is a wonderful human being.”_

  


_“He is.” Jihoon seconded truthfully and sincerely. “Do you like him?”_

  


_The guy sat them up on the bed, Jihoon sitting on his lap. “I like him as he is likable.”_

  


_And it went complete silence. He carefully nodded, eyes breaking the contact. Jihoon's world suddenly felt spinning around._

  


_He felt him poking on his cheeks, as he looked back at him, his smile could be against the sun and it would win with his cute snaggletooth showing proudly. “As a person. I like him. I've tried. I swear to God I did try to love him --- to be a better husband, but then again I realized you can't force to be in love with someone. You can love someone but never be in love with him.”_

  


_“So..”_

  


_“So I mean, Jihoonie, I am always in love with only one man. Jihoon, there is only one man that I have fallen in love with. That man that I first saw in the Park's mansion is the same man I'm holding right now, here with me, looking at me, listening to me, speaking to me.”_

  


_“Woojin-ah, this is a dangerous game we are playing.” He noted._

  


_He grinned at him, running his fingers on his hair. “Why don't you play with me, then?”_

  


_“If I win?”_

  


_“You will have me.” He promised._

  


_“And if I lose?”_

  


_“You'll always have me still.” And that promise was sealed with with his lips on his._

  


  


_On the last line of your diary, I will always be there_

  


_***_

 

  


  


DAY 2 OF D-DAY

  


Everything was settled. He was going to be free from the madness after this. His brother wasn't exactly helpful either as he kept being overprotective these days to the point it was annoying. He would go to his office every day – unannounced, mind you – and even to his apartment and would go on and on about anything and everything just to get his attention.

  


And then there's Park Woojin who tried millions of ways to get a hold of him. He tried to approach him in his office but Minhyun would show up then his brother wouldn't leave, threatening to kill the guy so in the end the guards had to make him leave. He tried to call him so many times that one day Minhyun got so pissed and actually stomp his phone, breaking it which made him throw a fit and actually hit him right on his face but of course that brother of his didn't even bat an eyelash.

  


So now, he found himself trapped in his office with two Kendo and Taekwondo masters that Minhyun assigned to be with him wherever he was just in case _that fucking bastard_ , his words --- wouldn't dream of coming near him. Ever. Not that he was blaming his brother, it was just how he was.

  


Sungwoon was giving him a summary of what would happen tomorrow on his big day, a launch of his new line for THE BROWN which he worked hard for the past few weeks. Over all 3 sets of different casual (smart, dress and street casual) line for him. Jihoon nodded at his secretary gratefully for putting up with him and his brother who made impossible favors and when he was about to leave, he said. “Jihoon, Mr. Ahn Hyeongseob wants to see you.”

  


_Oh._

  


_“_ Send him in. and Sungwoon hyung, please get me my mocha frappe.”

  


 

\- - -

  


Ahn Hyeongseob was wearing bigger than his face sunglasses, a bigger than his head black felt panama hat, his already red lips shining brighter than any shades of red he ever saw. And his suit was even made by a rival fashion clothing store.

  


_Interesting._

  


He whirled his chair sideways, faking a smile. “To what do I owe the pleasure of having you in my office, Hyeongseob- _ssi?”_

  


Hyeongseob scoffed at him. “I was eyeing the very beautiful red velvet suit I saw on the way to your office but your staff refused to sell it to me.”

  


The Red Velvet suit embroidered with bead work and low cut and slim fit was what he designed for himself for tomorrow's event.

  


_Hmmm.. “_ Well, I'm sorry to say, Mr. Ahn, that suit has already an owner.”

  


Ahn faked a gasp, exaggerating a sigh. “I can double the price for that suit.”

  


“Maybe next time, Mr. Ahn.”

  


The man walked towards him table and put down his glasses. He pouted at him. _Fake_. “I can assume that is what you are going to wear for tomorrow's event?”

  


He hummed a yes, distracting himself with paper works around him.

  


“What's mine is mine and what's yours is yours, right? You're very territorial, Mr. Park, and that's what I admire the most from you. Never a pushover. Men are indeed territorial. As I am.” Hyeongseob added. This got his attention well.

  


“What do you want?” He now met his eyes, challenging.

  


Hyeongseob clapped. “Sweeet! Do you think you have a moment to spare for me?'”

  


Jihoon picked up the phone connecting to Sungwoon and spoke, '”'d like to have my very cold frappe now, Sungwoon. And --- you, Mr. Ahn?”

  


“A cup of tea.”

  


“Perfect.”

  


\- - -

  


Park Jihoon watched as Ahn Hyeongseob paced around the office in front of him. He had an idea now what he wanted from him but was refusing to give in to it. It would be a now or never. Standing in front of him was the husband of the guy he made love with, the guy who held him and promised him of things.

  


“So,” Jihoon broke the silence. “What do I owe you this time?”

  


Ahn Hyeongseob stopped pacing and looked at him, hands on his back. He could clearly see his face devoid of his glasses and hat and he could tell he was completely nervous, he could taste the tension in the air. “You are a friend of mine, right, Jihoon?”

  


This was a news to him. “Well I--..”

  


“What do you think would you do if you found out your husband is cheating on you?” He boldly asked.

  


Jihoon would've clapped his hands at how straight-forward he was but his heart told him otherwise. _Shut the fuck up, Jihoon, you are screwed._ He nodded, internally taking what Hyeongseob had dropped.

  


“For two years, Woojinie had been oh-so-faithful. He had been a wonderful husband to me.” He sniffled. “But I think he's cheating on me now.”

  


_Great, I'm screwed big time. “_ What made you think so?”

  


“Lately, I noticed how frequent he had pulled an all-nighter, how he flew in different parts of the world! My husband! And these nights... he hasn't been himself.”

 

“Hasn't been himself?” This piqued his interest.

  


Hyeongseob nodded, taking a sit in front of him. “He's out of himself, constantly irritated at everything.”

  


Jihoon wiped his face with his finger nodding, trying to comprehend where this conversation was going. Had Ahn Hyeongseob gone here to check if he would bark back the truth?

  


Did he know? Was Jihoon scared of whatever things might happen next? Was he ready for a fallback now?

  


“Then what do you want me to do, Mr. Ahn?”

  


Ahn Hyeongseob seemed genuinely surprised. Thank God for his facial control although inside, he was already freaking out, thinking of different ways. Hyeongseob smirked confidently at him, taking up the challenge he was imposing.

  


“I think you know her – him. Relay a message from me to the bitch?” He asked as if this was the biggest favor in his life. “Be careful of snakes around, you might never when it bites. It stings.” And he stood up, waving him a bye.

  


“Snakes hiss and bite, but stings can be cured. Tigress roars and when provoked, it attacks. Can you survive the attack? It's death.” Jihoon asked back, Hyeongseob froze and looked at him, glaring daggers at the former. He shrugged his shoulders as Hyeongseob loudly slammed his door.

  


Then he exhaled loudly, his forehead meeting the top of his table.

  


_I'm sorry, Hyeongseob-ssi. I'm trying to end this game. It's ending soon._

  


_* * *_

  


_“I'm sure you are his first love.” Jisung pointed out when they first revealed their relationship with his best friend and brother. Minhyun was just nodding approvingly of them, his smile was from ear-to-ear. And he was happy to see that his best friend and his brother were approving of them._

  


_Daniel was holding him tight, with a smile on his face, with galaxies and stars in his eyes, he answered. “Dancing has always been my first love, but I guess Jihoonie is close to that?”_

  


He had never hated the word 'dancing' in his life.

  


  


 

  


  


  


 

  


  


  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> author's note”
> 
>  
> 
> italics during present are thought
> 
> italics are FLASHBACKS
> 
> italics and bold are THOUGHTS during flashbacks
> 
> no italics and bold are present

**Author's Note:**

> uhmmm what do you think?
> 
> again, cheating is bad, should not be romanticized and will never be tolerated so i'm really sorry


End file.
